


I'm Beginning To See The Light

by sillylittlecowboy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pining, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, they're happy in the end trust me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29622285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillylittlecowboy/pseuds/sillylittlecowboy
Summary: In a world of pain and solitude, it's hard to learn how to love.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/Male Sole Survivor, Paladin Danse/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! this is my first fic and i'm very excited to finally write something!! Please let me know if you like it and i'll keep updating as long as y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Title is from "I'm Beginning To See The Light" by Ella Fitzgerald.
> 
> Enjoy!

The first week had been the worst.

Throughout those first days the events of the last hours swirled around Ethan’s head like a tempest, a maelstrom of numbed pain and blurry sorrow. They flowed through his mind at breakneck speed, losing their focus in an instant, too afraid to think about them too much. The bombs. The Vault. Nora.

_ Nora. _

Her name felt like an echo, an anchor to the old world. A reminder of what once was. Of what would never be again.

_ Nora. _

Laughter, hers. Mirthful, sincere. More sincere that their marriage ever was, anyways. No secrets to that laugh, no cloak-and-dagger around dark street corners. Just pure joy. Yet it hadn’t been enough. No woman would ever be enough.

_ Nora.  _

Her name brought guilt, not joy. It reminded him of that one night, when Ethan came home with his clothes in disarray at 3 in the morning. She had been waiting for him, sitting on the red, sterile sofa with a knowing look on her face. She asked and he answered. 

Nora.

The woman who made him realize he couldn’t love women at all.

  
  


\---

  
  


Things started looking not so bad after the second week.

The work kept him busy. Sanctuary was looking better and better; with Sturges and Preston by his side, they turned a rusted cluster of ruins into a cozy little hamlet. Walls were patched up, roofs re-tiled. Water pumps were installed, and some strange local crops were planted. And soon enough, the world didn’t look so bleak. 

  
The group from Quincy ( _Ethan wondered what Quincy_ _looked like these days, maybe it had fared better than the little ruined parts of the Commonwealth he’d seen?)_ had finally stopped looking like lambs headed for the slaughterhouse. Mamma Murphy changed her ominous warnings of impending doom for hopeful messages of inspiration. Marcy seemed to have processed her loss in a healthier way, or at least beginning to. After the last wall was raised, Ethan saw her actually _smile._ It was only for a moment, and she snapped back at him for ogling. But Ethan could tell she didn’t mean it. That made him feel a little better. And by the end of the week, Jun was finally eating again. 

Week three was when things started to get interesting.

Ethan finally mustered the courage to go scavenging. Crops were all well and good, for a few days. No man used to the decadent taste of Saddle Up Salisbury Steak can survive on bland, mushy tatos for more than 3 days at  _ most. _

He packed his essentials: his trusty 10mm pistol he had taken from the Vault, a few stimpaks, and a couple cans of water straight from the wells. He assumed it was safe to drink; his Pip-Boy didn’t go haywire near it, at least. Tuning into Diamond City radio, he headed off down the bridge, away from Sanctuary and into adventure.

Adventure, however, was a  _ far  _ too romantic term for it, Ethan decided. He hadn’t been gone for more than an hour when he found his first body.

He had seen his fair share of bodies. After all, he had taken down an entire gang of raiders by himself when he rescued the guys from Quincy. But this was somehow different, more human.

He was on the outskirts of Concord, in a ruined house. Maybe the fact that he was in someone’s home, instead of a soulless museum, added to the solemnity of it all. It was a skeleton, not even a full on dead body. Just a dusty, regular old skeleton.

But it was holding a picture. That little wooden frame almost made Ethan break down. Such a simple thing, a minuscule detail, was immensely overpowering. It showed a family; father, mother, and a kid, no older than 10. He was wearing a baseball cap, just like the one Nora had bought for Shaun to wear on sunny days, but bigger. Ethan looked around, in search of other skeletons, but there was only debris and ruined furniture. She died alone.

Maybe her husband had been out at work, her kid at school. She died alone, and her last thoughts went to her family. 

Maybe Ethan was devastated because of her tragic demise. Maybe he felt jealous that she had a  _ real _ family. One who loved her and she loved back.

Ethan ran out, and didn’t stop running for what seemed like hours. He finally crumbled down inside an old diner, the orange sunset washing through the broken windows. He was exhausted, and thirsty. He drank a can of water, and tossed it on a pile of debris by his side. He chuckled to himself, somberly. In his regular old life, he would have paled at the thought of littering. But the world was ruined, and everyone was dead, and he was alone.

He heard a sudden click from his Pip-Boy. He looked down, and noticed that there was a new radio frequency on his screen:  _ Military Frequency AF95. _

He stared, dumbfounded. The  _ military?  _ After all this time? He had to check it out.

  
Ethan stood, and went slightly light-headed. How long had he really been running?. He felt hungry all of a sudden, his body realizing the work it’d done, but he didn’t care. He had to find out what was going on.

He tuned in, and a female voice said something about the Cambridge Police Station. He didn’t get much more other than that, his brain too fuzzy with astoundment and hunger. He exited the diner, jogging towards the station.

  
  


\---

  
  


Not much time had passed when Ethan heard gunshots.  _ Wait,  _ he thought,  _ those aren’t gunshots… _ Sure enough, a stray shot flew towards the darkening sky, and there was no mistaking its red glare: a laser rifle. This meant that, whoever was waging war against the growling creatures Ethan was hearing, was not messing around. Laser weaponry meant business.

He crouched and approached with caution through the ruined street, swapping covers between destroyed cars. The sun was finishing its descent, and darkness was quickly setting in. Ethan was finally close enough to the barricade surrounding the front of the station that he could get a good look at whatever creature was making those hellish noises.

The first thought that crossed his mind was Zombie, like the ones in those god awful pre-war movies. Their skin was hap-hazardly clinging to their bones, yellowed with age and radiation. Their limbs were freakishly distorted, slightly off both in length and position. Their eyes were dead, like a candle that had gone out. They were fast, and they were many. 

Ethan crouched behind a ruined pastel-blue  _ Corvega Blitz,  _ which back in the day would’ve made all the girls swoon and all the guys jealous. He assessed the situation; the creatures were swarming in from the street to the station, but he couldn’t quite see who they were after. His point of view faced down the street, the station at his right a few meters in front of him. He heard orders being shouted in a low, commanding voice, and a higher, probably woman’s voice shouting back in return. They sounded desperate, Ethan thought, so he decided to act quickly. He reached in his bag for a frag grenade, and releasing the pin, hurled it towards the cluster of creatures. 

  
He thought to himself that maybe that summer he’d spent doing repairs in a mechanic’s shop had paid off. He’d specifically aimed for the fuel tank of a perfectly positioned car that stood in the middle of the horde. The sound was deafening, and the explosion blinded him for a moment. Ethan took a moment to gather himself, and ran to the station.

He was quick to dispose of the straggler creatures with the 10mm, and soon enough they all lay dead at his feet. He looked around for more, but they’d finally stopped coming. He turned around to face those he’d come to meet.

Ethan couldn’t help but stand in awe at the man in front of him. He was wearing power armor, a T-60 from what Ethan could remember from those old TV ads, which made him stand at least like a foot taller than Ethan. He was handsome, there was no denying that, with a scruffy shade of a beard and a well sculpted jawline. His hair, black and short, added to the whole square theme he had going on, as did his eyebrows. The term  _ manly  _ fitted him well.

He was looking at Ethan almost expectantly, with a furrowed brow. Ethan realized he must’ve been staring, and looked down, blushing.

“Thank you for the assistance, civilian,” the soldier said. His voice sent tingles down Ethan’s spine; commanding, imposing, and all around attractive as  _ hell _ .

“Oh, uhm, you’re welcome,” he stuttered, looking up. God, could a conversation go worse? First he stared, now he fumbled his words. He was starting to wish he’d been in that fiery explosion from a few minutes ago. The man in power armor didn’t seem to notice.

“I suggest we go inside. It is unwise to linger in a hostile location.” He turned away, and called out to the woman tending to what looked like a soldier clutching his ribs. “Scribe Haylen, prepare to move Knight Rhys inside.” He ordered. She replied with an automatic “Yes sir!” and hoisted the wounded man to his feet, helping him inside.

“Well, I guess I’ll be on my way-” started Ethan. The soldier cut him off. 

“Negative, civilian. You’re wounded, and you sustained damage fighting for the Brotherhood of Steel. It is only fair we tend to your wounds.” He said it with pride oozing out of every word, like this  _ Brotherhood _ was his Bible or something. 

Wait, wounded? Ethan looked down. Sure enough, a small piece of jagged metal had managed to find its way into his lower abdomen, and in the heat of the battle he hadn’t noticed. His stomach seemed to drop, and he paled at the sight of it. His knees began to falter when he was caught by the soldier. His last sight before he passed out was the man’s face, looking slightly worried and telling him to stay awake. Before the darkness enveloped him, he thought it was the most handsome face he had ever seen.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Hope you're doing good. I promise next chapter will have more of that juicy yearning and angst y'all love but for now I had to get the introductory stuff out of the way. still i think it turned out good! please lemme know what you think.
> 
> Enjoy!!

For a few moments, everything seemed normal again.

  
  


Ethan felt a warm blanket over him, snuggling him under its heat. It was gonna be a fine weekend, sunny. He’d wake up and grab a cup of coffee, sit and watch the news with Nora, trade some playful banter with Codsworth.

Then it all came crashing down on him. 

He opened his eyes, and it wasn’t his house at all, of course. Just another ruined building, dark and dusty, with grimy wooden floors and crumbling walls. A soft orange glow flickered around the room, which was furnished only with the sleeping bag he was laying in and a few rusty desks. It felt oddly comforting, and so did the muffled voices in the room next to him.

He tried to stand, and an excruciating pain shot over his lower abdomen, making him fall back and gasp for breath. He heard the low, muffled voices on the other room stop, a chair scraping across the silent night, and hurried footsteps coming over.

The woman ( _Haylen, was it?)_ crossed the room in quick steps, over to Ethan’s makeshift cot. She smirked.

  
“Awake at last, big guy? Try not to move too much, your wounds are still healing. Took a few stimpaks to finally stop the bleeding, but the stitches are still a bit wobbly,” she said, coming over to inspect his wound.

“Stitches? Was it that bad?” Ethan inquired, trying to make some light conversation while she pulled up his shirt and prodded the wound a bit.

“You were lucky,” said Haylen, her expression changing to a more somber one. “The debris missed your organs by less than an inch. I’ve seen a lot less fortunate soldiers die to smaller explosions.” She sat there for a moment, as if lost in thought. She then realized she was still holding Ethan’s shirt, revealing his bare chest for the world to see, and she let go, slightly flustered.

“I’m, uh, gonna go tell Paladin Danse. He’ll be glad to know you’re awake.” She left the room quickly, her steps echoing around the derelict police station.

_Danse,_ thought Ethan. _So that’s what he’s called._

He remembered how the Paladin had caught him right as he was falling, those strong yet gentle arms enveloping him as his consciousness faded away, his worried voice calling out to him, his furrowed brow and his parted lips…

_Holy fuck,_ he thought. _Not even a month out here and I’m already head-over-heels for some guy that looks straighter than an arrow._ He really had to get his shit together.

No sooner than the thought had crossed his mind, however, the Paladin entered the room in his oh so glorious T-60 power armor.

_Ah, shit._

  
  


“Good to see you’re conscious, civilian,” stated the Paladin, with perfect professionalism. 

“I was beginning to get worried,” he said.

_Oh? The Paladin cared?_

“A civilian death on our reports would look poorly with our superiors,” he said dismissively.

_Oh._

“How long was I out?” asked Ethan, partly because he was curious, partly because he didn’t want to think that the Paladin couldn’t care less whether he lived or died.

“28 hours. More than usual for a small wound like yours, but you haven’t had training like the Brotherhood soldiers do. Their pain threshold is usually higher,” replied the Paladin.

“Oh,” said Ethan stupidly. Wow, he really did make a fool of himself in front of hot guys, huh?

Paladin Danse didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. He just stared at him with that stern look of his.

“I expect you to be on your feet by midday,” he stated. “Scribe Haylen said the wound should have fully mended by then, if the Stimpaks were in decent shape. Should you heal accordingly, I may have a proposition for you.” He said this with a slight smile, which made something in Ethan’s chest swoop. 

“Until then, civilian, bed rest is the optimal course of action,” said Danse turning away and going for the door

“Ethan,” he blurted out stupidly. 

Danse looked startled at this, his eyebrows high and his mouth parted again. He quickly recovered though, and said:

  
“Excuse me?” 

“My name's Ethan. Not civilian.” Of course it wasn’t civilian, they both knew that. God, what an idiot.

“Oh.” It was Danse’s turn to be at a loss. “Noted.” He left the room

Well, as poorly as it may have gone, it was a start. Maybe one day they’d call each other by their proper names. Until then, Ethan would have to wait.

  
  


\---

As it turns out, lying in a moldy sleeping bag for hours with the potential prospect of fighting alongside the hottest man Ethan had seen in 200 years was incredibly boring.

He mostly listened to the radio ( _God, this DJ is bad),_ and once the bad songs started playing ( _really? “Butcher Pete”? You’d think after 200 years people would’ve realized it sucks)_ he turned it off and took inventory. After a couple of hours he could move pretty freely, except for stretching too much, so he rumbled around his bag trying to make himself busy. He cleaned his pistol, drank some water in hopes of clearing his morning breath before getting too close to the Paladin, and made sure the Stimpaks were properly sealed.

After a while however, he didn’t have anything else to do other than rage at the poor musical choices the DJ was making, so he decided to go talk to the soldiers over in the next room. 

It was the police station’s lobby: as derelict as the other parts of the building, but with more furniture. A front desk, a table, some chairs, and a few sleeping bags filled the space that was not littered with debris. Haylen was nowhere to be seen, as was Danse, but that other guy, Rhys, was sitting with his back to the wall, looking at Ethan like he had personally murdered his family in front of him.

“Finally leaving?” he spat, standing up. He was taller than Ethan by an inch or so, and considerably more muscular. Had he not been an asshole, maybe Ethan would have bought him a drink back in the day.

“What’s it to you?” he replied. He was used to his kind. Back in the day, it was guys like him that gave him shit, that laughed behind his back when they saw him walking with another man. He was tired of it, and he was _not_ having it.

“Watch your tone, scavver. You’re talking to a Knight of the Brotherhood Of Steel. And I was hoping you’d decided to finally stop leeching our medical supplies and maybe considered going back to whatever hole you crawled out of.” He stepped forward.

“Knight Rhys, that’s enough!” ordered Paladin Danse. He looked slightly more stern than usual, which was maybe why Rhys backed down as quickly as he did, a sour look on his face.

“I apologize for his behaviour,” he said to Ethan, looking down at Rhys with those fiery eyes. “He tends to distrust those who are not part of our ranks. I hope, in time, you will prove him wrong.” He paused, and seemed to have had an idea. He looked back at Ethan. “

In fact, why not start now?” Said the Paladin with a hopeful look on his face.

“Wait, now? What do you mean?” asked Ethan, genuinely confused.

“What do you mean, _sir”_ spat Rhys from his corner. Another look from Danse was all it took for him to look back down.

“Our team has been stranded in this precinct due to our inability to communicate with our superiors. Luckily, Scribe Haylen has discovered a promising lead. Haylen?” he said, looking at her as she entered the room.

The scribe spoke quickly, like someone who knows a great deal about something and just can’t _wait_ to share it with everybody.

“There’s an old facility nearby that developed advanced technology before the war, ArcJet Systems. I’m certain that there’s a Deep Range Transmitter somewhere inside. I believe it was going to be used in a rocket or some extraplanetary technology of some sort, you know, to facilitate communications between the ship and the terrestrial base. To think of all the tech that’s just laying in there! Biometrics sensors, high-powered magnetic couplings, anti-cavitation propellers-” 

“Thank you, Haylen, that will be enough,” interjected the Paladin. Haylen seemed to realize how much she was actually talking, and looked down blushing with a meekly “yes sir”. 

“The point is, there’s a component in there that will amp up our signal, and hopefully allow us to make contact with our main force,” said the Paladin, looking back at Ethan expectantly. 

“Would you be willing to help me retrieve it?” 

Ethan didn’t even have to think his reply. One-on-one time with Paladin Danse? Yes please!

“Yes sir!” he replied, standing a little bit straighter. Rhys groaned from his corner.

  
Danse didn’t hear him. Instead, a smile formed on his lips, and answered back:

“Outstanding, soldier. Gather whatever supplies you may need, I’ll wait for you outside.” With that, he marched out the door.

Ethan ran back to his sleeping bag and collected his things. He couldn’t wait to see the Paladin in action.

  
He made his way out of the station, and found the Paladin around the corner. 

“Ready to move out, soldier?” he inquired, almost teasing.

  
  


_Now that’s a voice I can get used to,_ he thought...

  
  


“Yes sir!” Ethan replied.

“Outstanding,” said the Paladin. With that, they began their trek towards ArcJet.

After a few minutes, Ethan looked back at Danse, 

and was it his imagination?

Or did Danse really just check him out?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!! im back with a slightly longer chapter this time!! please lemme know what you think!! enjoy!

After what went down at ArcJet, Ethan thought, he’d  _ definitely  _ imagined Danse checking him out.

He was thinking back on what had happened, and more specifically,  _ how  _ it’d happened. Sure, Danse had complimented him on his combat skills, and yes, he had invited him to the Brotherhood in a heartbeat. But it had all been so sterile, so devoid of emotion. It was as if the Paladin had turned a switch off, and he didn’t want anything to do with Ethan besides the strictly necessary.

Ethan sighed, absent-mindedly prodding the contents of his can of beans with a plastic spoon. He’d taken shelter in an old ruined house for the night, and had started a small fire in a barrel to cook and keep himself warm. He sat there, over his sleeping bag, and went over and over the last few hours in his head, mulling over every single detail. 

He knew he was definitely interested in Danse, and he desperately wanted Danse to be interested back. But it just didn’t seem like it at all. Just wishful thinking. If he went over it logically, Ethan thought, all his interactions had been ordinary. Sure, maybe the Paladin saw potential in him, but he was just another soldier in his ranks. How many other recruits had Danse trained? How many other people, probably much smarter and stronger than Ethan, had Danse met over the years in the Brotherhood? 

Ethan sighed again.

The Paladin didn’t care about him, not in the way he wanted to. Besides, he looked like he had something with Haylen anyways. Ethan had heard them talking, when he got back from his mission at ArcJet. They sounded close, like so many other couples he’d seen back when he still went on dates to pastel-coloured diners with Nora.

Great, now he was thinking about her again.

What would Nora say if she saw him now? Sighing after a man who couldn’t care less about him, who only saw him as just another face in his ranks. Another name on his reports. What a fool.

But Nora was dead. She couldn’t say anything, she was just a rotting corpse in a freezing tomb. And suddenly, Ethan was shivering, like the cold of the Vault never quite left him at all.

He climbed into his sleeping bag, putting himself into a fetal position. God, it was so cold. 

He just wished he had someone to share his bag with.

  
  


\---

  
  


A few days had passed since his last contact with the Paladin. He’d returned to Sanctuary, to aid Preston in some settlement-related issues he was having. Mainly raiders, which Ethan was pleased to deal with. They reminded him of Rhys, and by God he hated that asshat.

Rhys had been the first one to confront him after he returned from ArcJet. He’d cornered him as soon as the Paladin was out of sight.

“You’re still alive? That’s disappointing,” he’d said with that cold stare of his.

Ethan rolled his eyes, having expected something of the sort as soon as he’d entered the police station. Danse was in the next room, speaking with Haylen, and stiffened a bit when he heard Rhys’ remark, but went on anyways discussing the technology they’d recovered.

“I was hoping you’d decided to run along with your fellow Super Mutants, seeing as you’re both as smart and charming as them,” Ethan spat back with hate. He was tired of him.

Rhys’ body tensed up, muscles bulging under his tight-fitting Brotherhood fatigues. Ethan had seen that kind of body language before, so he just collected his bag and stomped out the front door. He’d half hoped that Danse would call after him, but nothing except the breeze rattling the fallen leaves by the station disturbed the silence.

He’d walked away, angry at Rhys, at Danse, at the whole affair. Why did he have to fall for the guys who just didn’t care?

  
  


But that’d been a few days ago, and he was now busying himself with assignments for the Minutemen, hoping to clear his mind of all his conflicted feelings. Maybe that was why he missed the massive airship that crossed the morning sky to the southwest. He would have missed it completely had it not been for the roaring speakers proclaiming the peaceful intentions of the Brotherhood of Steel, which reached all the way over to Oberland Station where he was currently receiving a reward for clearing out a ghoul-infested Super-Duper Mart.

As he looked at the massive metallic blimp crossing the sky, he cursed under his breath. Maybe he wasn’t done with the Paladin quite yet.

  
  


\---

  
  


He debated for a good 10 minutes whether he should return to the police station. On one hand, there were comfortable beds, more decent food than tatos, Haylen was a friendly face, and well, Danse.

On the other hand, Rhys. And Danse.

In the end, he decided he’d head back. Whether because he hated himself and loved the idea of suffering in silence or because he actually wanted to get into the Institute for some answers, he didn’t quite know.

He arrived by midday, and the precinct had been transformed. Just outside there were a few Knights clad in shiny T-60 suits of power armor, stomping about the place while scribes took notes. He nodded to them, and they didn’t object to his appearance. Maybe someone had briefed them already about his presence. A small part of him hoped it’d been Danse. He mentally told himself to shut up, and braced himself to enter.

Inside was, as he expected, Scribe Haylen taking down notes on a terminal in the lobby.

“Oh, hey, Initiate! Good to see you’re back!” she piped up with her usual cheery disposition.

“Good to see you Haylen,” he replied with a smile. Haylen was just that kind of person; infectious smile, and that joy that just seems to leech into people around her.

“Before you ask, the Paladin and Knight Rhys are out on a recon mission. They should be back by late afternoon, if they don’t run into trouble,” she said without lifting her eyes from the screen.

“How did…” started Ethan, panic shooting up his chest as he thought if he had really been careless enough for people to tell he was crushing after his Commanding Officer.

“I thought you’d want to speak to the Paladin about your next assignment,” she replied while she saved her document and powered off the terminal. “Have you eaten yet?” she asked with a friendly smile.

A few moments later they were both sitting in a quiet corner in a back office of the precinct, away from the hustle of the other Brotherhood members, sharing a box of Blamco Mac N Cheese.

“What’ve you been up to these last few days?” asked Haylen, chowing down on the pasty 200 year old meal.

“Oh, just running around, looting and stuff. You know, the usual,” replied Ethan. 

“Making friends? Or just enemies?” she replied, still digging around her plate.

“Mostly just raiders after their next fix of Jet, but a few friendly faces now and then. There’s some good people out there in need of helping,” he answered, reminiscing about the family down in Nordhagen Beach whom he’d helped with their Super Mutant issues.

“I know,” she said looking out the grimy window, “that’s mainly why I joined. I was tired of being helpless. Of fearing what would happen tomorrow, if it would be raiders or gunners that’d pay me a visit while I slept.” Her eyes looked glazed, unfocused, as if she was remembering something. She then shook her head slightly, and went back to her meal.

“I decided I had to be the one doing the helping, if no one else would. So when the Brotherhood came by our settlement doing a recruitment run, I joined their ranks and never looked back.” she concluded, swallowing one last spoonful of pasty pasta. 

Ethan didn’t know quite to say. But he certainly had a new found appreciation for the woman sitting in front of him.

  
  


\---

  
  


As Haylen had said, both Danse and Rhys returned around five. Rhys wasted no time in shooting a dirty look at Ethan, but Danse just marched on towards his office, without so much as a glance in his direction.

Ethan was beginning to get frustrated. Where had all the friendly smiles gone? The comradery and praise?

He busied himself helping Haylen catalogue some documents recovered in the latest patrol run. They talked a bit more, and he was liking her more and more by the minute. Ethan decided she was definitely the friendliest of the bunch. At least, she acted like a normal human being.

An hour or so later, Danse came out of his office and marched over to Ethan, a neutral look on his face.

“Initiate, we have been summoned to the Prydwen to await orders. Please follow me, and try not to lag behind.” He quickly left by the front door, leaving Ethan slightly disappointed. After quite literally saving his life back in ArcJet this was all he was getting?

“You heard the big guy, better go on,” said Haylen, pouring over some assorted folders and documents.

Ethan decided not to test the Paladin’s patience. Besides, he was getting angry, and wanted to get a chance to speak to him as soon as possible.

  
  


\---

As it turned out, Ethan didn’t quite like Vertibirds. 

Sure, the view was great, and the swooping feeling in his stomach as they took off was akin to those old coasters Nora liked, but after a few minutes the novelty wore off and the nausea set in, and Ethan was starting to regret having had so much Mac N Cheese.

When they finally touched down on the Prydwen, Ethan had to make a run for the toilet. After returning his lunch through the hole it first arrived through, he stepped out to find the Paladin looking annoyed, his arms crossed. 

“Done? Elder Maxson is waiting for us. He will not appreciate your tardiness:” With that he set off, leaving Ethan to follow his steps. He was now getting properly furious. So now it was his fault that he had to throw up? Very mature.

He followed him in a hazy blur, nausea not quite having subsided. This was probably the reason why he didn’t get much of the Elder’s speech. All he could gather was that the Institute was bad. Gee, what a revelation.

Oh, and that he was now a Knight. Rhys would be  _ overjoyed. _

He then took a tour around the ship, at the recommendation of his superior. He got to know some of the more prominent members of the Brotherhood: Proctor Quinlan, the cat guy, Proctor Ingram, the Power Armor lady, Proctor Teagan, the weird gun guy, and Knight-Captain Cade, the doc. They all seemed amicable enough, except for Teagan. That guy had a weird vibe about him.

  
  


Night was quickly falling over the Prydwen, and Ethan felt a bit lonely. Sure, there were a bunch of fellow soldiers around the place, but he didn’t quite feel too comfortable around them. For starters, they all knew each other, so when he went down to the mess hall for dinner there were already little groups sitting at the tables. 

And, to be honest, Ethan didn’t really feel like a part of the Brotherhood that much. Yes, he was a Knight, and he’d helped them a couple of times. But their ideals? Their motivations? They didn’t quite sit right with him. He knew enough about ghouls to know that some of them were pretty much regular people. Hell, the guys at The Slog were downright friendly. And yet the Brotherhood despised them all. So he decided to skip dinner, go straight to his quarters. 

As a Knight under the command of a prestigious Paladin, he’d been assigned his own personal quarters. They were a small metal rectangle-shaped room furnished with a bed (with actual covers!), a desk and chair, and a cabinet. Not much room for anything else, really.

He put down his bag on his desk, and undressed himself to get in bed. He thought of Danse, who didn’t ever bother to congratulate him on his promotion, but his anger wasn’t there anymore. Instead, a sort of dull sadness was setting inside of him, making him think of all the times he’d been fooled by guys like Danse. 

He turned on his bed, and prayed to whatever was out there that for once, he didn’t end up with a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohoho the angst is here friends. whatever will happen next?? stay tuned to find out!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! sorry for missing the update yesterday, i had stuff to do. apologies!! anyway im back on my bullshit with another slightly longer chapter and oh boy what a chapter!!
> 
> leave a comment and tell me what yall think!! 
> 
> enjoy!!

Ethan was back to being properly pissed.

He’d had a rough night, there was no denying it. Those hours after his Knighting ceremony had been some of the most depressing he’d ever endured, and boy had he seen some shit.

His bed felt too stiff, the covers too rough. After a few tosses and turns he finally realized that it was going to be one of those nights. So he sat on his military issued chair by his desk, turned on the classical music radio and got to tuning his trusty 10mm. He tried not to think of Danse. He failed miserably.

As he modified the magazine to hold a few more rounds, his mind wandered to his mentor, the man who’d taken him under his wing and offered him a much needed hand out in this cruel, cruel world. Why was he giving him the cold shoulder? Ethan thought back to those first moments, when they first met. Danse seemed gentle, even below all those plates of reinforced steel. He’d given Ethan a bed and pretty much saved his life. He’d held him as he fell. Why was he being like this?

Ethan put his gun aside and dropped his head to the desk, grabbing his hair with his hands, and groaned. Why was he being treated like just another recruit? He hated this feeling. He felt stupid, but most of all, angry. He made up his mind. Enough groaning, enough suffering. He was going to confront the Paladin.

Now with the idea firm on his mind, he got to hatching a plan. Danse was… how to put it? Not the best with words. He was eloquent, Ethan had noticed, and he had a habit of beating around the bush with unnecessary words and fancy vocabulary. But beneath those carefully curated phrases, he was a bit clumsy. If he caught him off guard he was  _ sure _ Danse was going to clam up and his efforts would be in vain. So he had to find the perfect moment. That was going to be a challenge.

  
  


\---

  
  


He wasn’t sure when or how he’d fallen asleep. All Ethan knew was that a loud alarm was blaring on his Pip-Boy and that the clock read 5 am. Fantastic.

He read the screen with difficulty, red eyed and with marks on his cheek from his sleeve, but could discern that he was needed on the flight deck. He yawned and stretched, his neck stiff from the god-awful position he’d fallen asleep in, and stepped outside his quarters towards the flight deck.

The Prydwen was bustling with activity, as usual. Scribes were walking briskly to and from the various sections. Some carried files, others complicated looking pieces of tech. A couple of them greeted him with a simple “Knight.” Most avoided him, as if he had the plague.  _ Good to know they’re kind to outsiders,  _ Ethan thought angrily. The Brotherhood was also getting on his nerves.

He reported to Lancer Captain Kells, and his still half-asleep mind registered only part of the briefing. Abominations, Listening Post, threat to humanity, etc, etc. The usual.

He wasn’t expecting, however, the word “Danse” to be thrown in the mix.

“Wait, back up. What was that last thing you said, sir?” he asked rather stupidly.

“You’ll be working with Paladin Danse on this assignment, Knight. He is, after all, still your mentor. Or have you forgotten that already?” replied Kells, his eyes sternly on Ethan. 

“No sir. I was just, making sure I’d gotten that right.” Poor as excuses go, Ethan thought, but maybe it would pass?

“The Paladin is waiting for you by the Airport’s entrance. I wouldn’t keep him waiting if I were you. He looked rather displeased.” With that, Kells gave him a well oiled “Ad Victoriam!” and dismissed him.

Great. The first chance he got to talk with Danse and he was in a bitchy mood. 

Ethan boarded a vertibird and he was in no time down by the airport lobby. His stomach still did not fully agree with air travel, but he was going to have to suck it up and endure it anyway.  _ Much like the rest of the Brotherhood, _ he thought.

Danse was waiting for him, fully clad in his power armor, a mask of cold politeness on his face.

“Ready? Keep up with the pace, I’d rather not tarry long with this mission.” With that he jogged off. Typical.

Ethan breathed in, trying not to lose his shit. He had been expecting this. He knew the Paladin would be cold, distant. He just had to wait for the right moment. He thought he knew when it would come. With a sneaky grin, he trotted behind the Paladin.

  
  


\---

  
  


After a few hours of non-stop alternated walking and trotting, it was clear that wherever they were going was far from the Prydwen. They were heading southwest, as his Pip-Boy compass kindly told him, but he didn’t quite know what was in that region. He’d heard of Diamond City and Goodneighbour, but to his understanding they were a bit northeast from their current location. Surely they must’ve passed them already. Where the hell were they going? 

Soon they reached the old swamplands. Ethan had always hated this area. Back in the day it was humid and hot, with that kind of sticky heat that makes it hard to breath. Now it was the same, if a bit colder, but the mosquitoes were the size of dogs and every step into a stealthy puddle left your socks soaked in radioactive water, which left a slight tingle on your skin. Thank God he’d stocked up on Radaway and Rad-X.

It was almost night time already; the journey had taken them all day. And yet they’d barely talked, exchanging only suggestions for alternate routes when the enemies were too abundant, and Ethan asking for rest stops now and then. He felt embarrassed whenever he had to. He felt he slowed them down, and he  _ knew _ Danse hated being late anywhere. So he tried to make them few and far between, but he just didn’t have the stamina of a well trained Brotherhood Paladin.

Soon, however, night had fallen, and they had to stop if they didn’t want to risk being Stinger chow or Gunner prey. They came across a dilapidated little house, far enough from the most populated areas. Ethan would have considered it quite charming back in the day; it was that style of skinny, wooden home that reminded him of that bad TV show Nora used to watch,  _ North-American Thrill Tale.  _ The first season had a house with a similar style, though much bigger.

This one was just enough for two people, with a kitchen that still stood, a dining table with a couple of chairs, and enough room to squeeze in two sleeping bags. Danse stepped in first to check the perimeter, and after giving an all clear, made himself busy removing some of the debris.

Ethan had been waiting for this moment. Just some respite, a quiet situation where no one was shooting and no killer bugs were after them. But it felt wrong. Danse was facing away, and he felt awkward. So he decided to take the oil lantern that lay by the front door and place it on top of the table, and lit it. The atmosphere instantly felt lighter. The soft orange glow cast hazy shadows on the walls, and the warmth it gave off was quite comforting. Ethan wished he had a cup of cocoa.

Danse had finally stopped throwing out debris and setting down the sleeping bags, so he stepped out of his power armor. Ethan realized it was the first time he’d seen him out of it.

He was muscular, broad shouldered. His Brotherhood fatigues complimented him very well, marking his well toned biceps and thigh muscles. But he looked slightly lost, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Vulnerable.

Ethan noticed his face didn’t quite look as cold as it’d been all day. He looked like he was thinking. Remembering.

  
  


Now was the moment.

  
  


“Danse?” asked Ethan softly, not too abruptly.

Danse seemed to snap out of a reverie, and looked back at him. But he didn’t regain his usual composure. His face stayed almost the same.

“Yes?” 

“I, well, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. For a while now.” Ethan’s heart was pounding. This was it. He had one chance.

“I feel things haven’t been the same since ArcJet. I thought we were…” he wanted to say “close” but he just couldn’t. 

“I thought we were friends. But you just, you cut me off. You didn’t wanna speak to me, you avoided me back at the Prydwen. What’s wrong, man? You’re supposed to be my mentor. How am I supposed to trust you when I can’t even speak to you?” He couldn’t hold back, not now.

Danse looked lost, as he thought he would. But he definitely wasn’t expecting what he would say next.

“I had a friend once. His name was Cutler. We were… close. We met when I moved into Rivet City, in the Capital Wasteland. We watched each other’s backs. Always.”    
  


He spoke fast, not looking at Ethan. His voice was hollow, yet it had something that Ethan couldn’t quite pin down.

“ I was a scavenger, picked through the ruins to sell scrap. But it all changed, one day. The Brotherhood of Steel came to recruit. Cutler and I were ecstatic. We joined in the blink of an eye. They were the best years of my life.” 

His voice was getting hoarser. As if he was struggling.

“One day, Cutler vanished. He’d been on a mission, clearing out a Super Mutant nest, but he never reported back. I asked around, made inquiries. I was able to convince the higher ups to dispatch a patrol, and we went looking. We found him, and his team.” 

His eyes were glimmering by the lantern light. Tears.

“They’d all been ripped apart. All but Cutler. He... “ his voice almost broke. Almost.

“They turned him into one of them. He didn’t know who I was. I had to, there was no choice. I had to.” 

He was looking at Ethan now, his face in a pained expression.

“Cutler, I… he… I told myself it wasn’t my fault. I moved on, I honored his memory, and I swore I would never let something like it happen again. I couldn’t face it. The pain… I wanted it to be me. I wanted to die.” 

Danse was looking at his own hands now, lost.

“I managed. It was impossibly hard, but I did. I thought I wouldn’t go through something like it again.”

He looked at Ethan.

“Until I met you.”

He looked back down, unsure what to do with himself.

“In ArcJet, I- I was worried. Every shot that whizzed past me, I feared it would hit you. So I took chances, I was reckless. And when you triggered that booster to incinerate the synths around me, and I thought I was going to die, I could only think of you. Of how I- of how I would never get to know you like I did Cutler.” 

A tear was rolling down his cheek, glistening in the lantern light.

Ethan was dumbfounded. All this time, Danse…

“Danse, I-” he began.

“I’m sorry,” Danse blurted out, looking slightly manic. “I- I shouldn’t have burdened you with this. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He dropped down to a ruined couch, his head falling to his hands.

He looked so fragile, so small sitting there. Ethan carefully sat next to him. Danse was crying.

“I don’t- I just- I’m pathetic,” he spat out, hate coming out of his words. 

“You’ll probably go ask Maxson for a new CO. I can’t blame you. What was I thinking?” he sobbed.

Ethan felt impossibly sorry for the man sitting next to him.

“Danse, look at me.”

The Paladin obliged, peeking through his hands.

“I wouldn’t have any other person in the Commonw- hell, in the whole world, watching my back.” 

Danse looked confused. Ethan continued.

“You’re not pathetic. You are the most brave man I’ve ever met. It takes courage to do everything you’ve done. And showing your emotions? It’s not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength.” 

Danse gave him a watery smile.

“I- I don’t know what to say.” 

In a stroke of inspiration, Ethan replied:    
  
“Then say nothing,” and he held him.

  
  


It was a strange embrace. Danse stiffened at the contact, unsure of how to react at first. Ethan panicked for a second, but the Paladin gave in and relaxed, and held him back. He cried on his shoulder for a few minutes more, safe in Ethan’s arms. 

Eventually, they broke apart, the warmth which enveloped them fading away. Danse looked embarrassed, blushing slightly. He headed for his sleeping bag. Ethan put out the oil lamp, and did the same.

After a few minutes, he heard Danse’s voice break the silence of the night.

  
  


“Ethan?” 

  
  


_ It’s the first time he says my name. _

  
  


“Yes, Danse?” 

  
  


“Thank you.” 

  
  
  
  


In that moment, there wasn’t a single star in the night sky that shone brighter than Ethan’s smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall im back at it again, new chapter time babey!!! 
> 
> anyways you know the drill, i spew my silly little words and yall comment what you think
> 
> please comment though it really does help me stay motivated lmaoo
> 
> anyways enjoy!!!

The sun still hadn’t fully come out when Ethan woke up.

He looked at the time on his Pip-Boy. 5:30 am.  _ Guess I’m being an early bird today, _ he thought with a twinge of anger. Not getting enough sleep in the Commonwealth was dangerous, and today was going to be an eventful day. He could’ve done with another hour, at least.

As quietly as possible, so as to not disturb Danse, who was sleeping a few feet away from him, he crawled out of his sleeping bag, putting on his pants in the process. He’d found out that military fatigues were  _ much  _ more comfortable than his plastic and rubber Vault suit, which pinched him in all the worst places. The fatigues were dark green and made of soft cloth, but reinforced with pre-war ballistic weave. At least the military knew how to protect their forces back in the day. It could withstand a few bullets and blows, but not much more. Still, it was better than nothing.

He looked over at Danse, fast asleep in his bag. He looked relaxed, peaceful. His usual frown was gone, replaced by a placid look of pure innocence. Wherever his mind was, it was someplace good. Ethan had never seen him sleeping. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen much of him at all, ever since ArcJet. But at least everything was clear now. He hoped he’d be seeing more of him in the coming days.

In his green pants and grey tank top, he walked over to the kitchenette and began the process of brewing some coffee. The grinder, of course, was noisier than a Deathclaw in heat, so Ethan wanted to die a bit when he heard Danse shuffle in his sleeping bag. He fumbled to turn it off, but instead managed to somehow increase the power, and make even more noise in the process. He pulled the cord in desperation, and it finally went quiet. He silently prayed that he hadn’t woken Danse.

  
  


“Morning,” mumbled Danse from his bag, rubbing his eyes.

  
  


Ethan’s heart fluttered a bit at the sight; Danse in a tank top that left little to the imagination being all sleepy and cute?  _ I am going to die, _ Ethan thought.

“Morning, Danse. Sleep well?” attempted Ethan cautiously. He didn’t quite know how Danse was going to behave, after all that heart-to-heart they’d had last night.

“Best sleep I’ve had in years,” assured him Danse, propped on his elbows, a smile creeping on his lips. 

  
  


Ethan blushed. Good to know.

  
  


“So what’s our agenda for today?” asked Ethan, pouring a cup of coffee, sitting at the table.

Danse looked at him, smirk growing more confident now.  _ Guess he likes a man of action,  _ Ethan thought.

“We have to clear out a location a bit south from here. Then we set up a radio beacon and the scribes will do the rest.” He got up, and dressed himself swiftly. He really didn’t waste any time.

“Coffee?” offered Ethan, as the Paladin zipped up his Brotherhood jumpsuit.

“It doesn’t really wake me up. Just makes me jittery, so I’ll have to decline. Besides, I hate the taste,” replied Danse, his nose furrowing at the scent emanating from the cup.

“I won’t say no to a Fancy Lad Snack Cake, though. I do have a soft spot for them.” 

Ethan was astonished. Paladin Danse, testosterone-fueled, gun-toting, steel-wearing Paladin Danse, had a thing for muffins?

“I, uh, yeah, sure. Here,” said Ethan, pulling out a box from his bag and handing it over to Danse.

“Thanks,” replied the Paladin, looking into his eyes for a moment and then looking away, as if embarrassed.

_ Maybe he shared snack cakes with Cutler too,  _ thought Ethan.

They sat in silence while they had their breakfast, things slightly awkward from the night before. Still, Ethan wouldn’t have it any other way. And he guessed that Danse felt the same too.

After they were done, Danse climbed back into his power armor and they vacated the lonely house. Ethan looked back at it as they left. He felt that things wouldn’t quite have been the same way without it.

  
Soon enough they reached the marked spot, and Ethan understood  _ why  _ it needed clearing out.

A Deathclaw had had the bright idea to nest right atop it.

Panic was rising through Ethan’s chest. He knew from Concord just how dangerous Deathclaws could get, and he wasn’t keen on taking on another one. Especially if he had no power armor this time. 

“Uh, Danse, are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Ethan, trying not to sound too nervous.

Danse looked worried, his brow furrowed deeper than usual.

“I don’t like it either, but this spot is the best for miles around. We need a listening post in this area, and most of the surrounding quadrants are heavily irradiated.” He looked at Ethan, and then back at the Deathclaw laying on the dirt mound.

“That doesn’t make me like the idea anymore than you do.” With that, he charged towards the creature, laser rifle in hand.

Ethan cursed under his breath, and followed suit with his 10mm.

  
  


Thankfully, the modifications made it pack quite a punch, so after Danse had opened fire, he landed shot after shot on the creature’s soft belly, which he knew to be their weak spot. Blood was spurting out of every bullet hole, and it was getting slower.

But that didn’t stop it from getting closer.

Danse kept firing, laser shots burning the Deathclaw’s leathery skin and making it roar in a frenzy. It was getting furious, but disoriented. The pain was just too much.

But it made it more dangerous.

It was writhing about, lashing its claws around the place like a frenzied Mr. Gutsy. Any minute now, and it’d-

“Ethan, NO!” 

He looked down. A deep gash across his lower abdomen was oozing blood. He fell to his knees.

He watched in a haze as Danse roared at the creature, landing shot after shot relentlessly. It finally dropped dead. It was still falling to the ground when Danse ran over to Ethan, a distraught look on his face.

“Ethan, please, stay with me.” He hurried over to the bag, injecting a Stimpak on his chest. The bleeding seemed to slow down. 

“Danse, I-” he began. 

“Don’t. You’re not- I’m not losing you.” He plunged another Stimpak, the bleeding stopping. He knew it would be temporary. He had to get him out of there.

“Stay with me. Please, don’t go,” Danse’s eyes were shimmering.

  
“I won’t. Don’t worry.”

And with that, everything went dark.

  
  


\---

  
  


Pain.

The only thing Ethan could think about was how much his body hurt. It was on fire, searing agony taking his senses away.

He groaned, almost crying.

“Oh, thank God. You’re alive.” 

“D-Danse?” Ethan gasped, opening his eyes.

They were back in the house from the night before, and he was laying on the table, which had now been put in the center of the room for easier access. He was on a sleeping bag, but could feel the rough wooden surface beneath.

  
It was dark, probably night time already. The oil lamp was on, casting its familiar shadows over the walls.

Danse was hurrying over to him, power armor laying forgotten in the corner.

“How do you feel?” Danse inquired with a worried look, taking a look at the bandages.

“Fuck, it hurts,” was all he could muster.

“I know, but I used up all our Med-X. I should’ve packed more. I’m sorry,” Danse said, trying to comfort him.

“Hey, it’s ok. Don’t worry. Look, I can mo-” He tried to sit up, but seeing as he felt his body was about to be ripped in half, he sat back down.

“Hey, easy. Don’t move. The Stimpaks are doing their job, but you have to stay still.” Danse brought a chair closer towards Ethan, and sat down.

  
  


They stayed in silence for a bit, until Ethan realized:

  
  


“This is like the first time we met.” 

Danse looked up, a smile forming on his lips.

“It was far less serious then, just a bit of metal. But it kept you knocked out the entire day, remember?” 

“How could I forget? You made me feel like I was being dramatic.” He went to laugh, but it hurt so bad he had to stop at once.

“Well, to be fair, it was a  _ small _ piece of metal. But still, I-” Danse caught himself, and muttered a small “nevermind.” 

_ Wow, he really is bad at this whole thing, isn’t he. _

“But what? C’mon, it’s ok,” Ethan assured him.

Danse looked at him, blushing slightly.

“I was really worried that you wouldn’t wake up.” 

  
  


Now it was Ethan’s turn to blush.

  
  


“I thought you didn’t care. You said something like it would look bad on your reports, or something,” confessed Ethan.

“I thought that was what I felt back then. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  
He looked a bit lost again, like he didn’t quite know what to do.

“Well, when you walked up to me, when I woke up, I know I was glad to be alive.” 

Danse looked back at him, something in his eyes making Ethan’s heart feel all over the place.

“But I- How can you say that? Whenever we travel together, I put you in mortal peril. First, the ghouls at the station. Then ArcJet. And now this? I don’t understand. How can you feel glad, when it was me who made you suffer like that?” 

Danse looked distraught now. But he looked at Ethan with something else.

  
  


Longing.

  
  


So when Danse looked into Ethan’s eyes, Ethan took his head and kissed him.

  
  


He didn’t quite know where he was getting all this confidence from. Maybe all the painkillers he was probably on right now. But it felt right.

  
  


Danse’s whole body tensed up, his eyes shooting open. But only for a moment. He returned the kiss, lovingly, caringly. He held Ethan’s hand on the side of his head, their fingers intertwining together, their lips silently speaking all the words they hadn’t said.

After a few moments they broke apart, looking into each other’s eyes. 

They didn’t speak afterwards, maybe because they didn’t quite know what to say. They just sat there, Danse caressing Ethan’s hand like they were designed to do so. Like they belonged there.

Soon Ethan drifted off, but still not fully asleep, he felt Danse get up from his chair, and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

  
  


Ethan wasn’t sure if his wound was open again, or if there were just plain old butterflies in his stomach.

But he was certain of one thing. He was truly in love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter heehoo love yall

When Ethan woke up, most of the pain was gone.

  
The spot where he’d almost been disemboweled still felt tight, the skin a bit too raw, but he could move as long as he didn’t do any crazy acrobatics. He was probably going to be alright.

He was still on the table, which had acted as a makeshift gurney the night before, but the chair where Danse had sat was empty.

Danse.

Ethan remembered everything in an instant, and all those feelings rushed back to him, making him lightheaded. 

Danse and him had  _ kissed. _

He could barely contain his joy. Danse liked him back.

He dropped his head back on the sleeping bag, and sighed with relief. The sun was out, the morning rays warming his face and the exposed part of his bare chest.

_ Wait, bare chest? _

Ethan was positive he’d been wearing his tank top when he’d fallen asleep. Hell, he was still wearing his pants, and if he hadn’t taken his pants off before falling asleep, he  _ definitely  _ hadn’t removed his shirt. That only left one alternative: Danse had taken it off for him.

The thought of Danse tenderly moving his hands over his chest, carefully taking his shirt off while he slept, taking in his peaceful body, made something inside him squirm. His feelings were all over the place.  _ Get a grip, schoolgirl. _

Ethan was climbing off the bed when he heard a low “ _ fuck!”  _ It sounded like Danse, alright. It had that rough yet warm thing to it. 

He walked over to the living room, and nothing in his 200 and something years of life would have prepared him for the sight that greeted him as he turned the corner: 

Danse was sewing. 

He was hunched over with a piece of cloth on his legs and a threaded needle, working carefully, his tank top allowing Ethan to take in his muscles of steel, his thick biceps and well-defined collarbone. He would’ve swooned had his brain function not been impaired momentarily by the sight of Paladin Danse, hardened war soldier, sewing.

Danse seemed to realize Ethan was looking at him, because he quickly looked up and smiled at him. Ethan was surely going to drop dead any moment now.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” asked Danse, applying the finishing touches to his creation of grey cloth.

“Danse, what are you- is that, is that my tank top?” Ethan realized, bewildered.

“I felt responsible for the current state of your clothing, seeing as I led you into that Deathclaw’s attack, so it’s only fair I fixed it,” said Danse standing up and handing Ethan his shirt. He looked down at him, being a few inches taller, and Ethan felt really small against him.

As much as he was aroused, he was pretty fucking embarassed. 

His cheeks burned as he quickly put on his shirt, turning away from the Paladin and busying himself with his bag, making sure everything was in its place, but mostly looking for an excuse to avoid his gaze. As much as he was crushing after the man, he  _ still _ got very shy around guys like him. And if the guy actually  _ sewed  _ his clothes back together, having carefully spent time doing something like that for him? Even worse.

“Anyway, where did you learn how to sew?” asked Ethan, trying not to die from embarrassment. It was a good question, though. Seamstresses and the like were fairly rare in the Commonwealth, and good-fitting clothes were even rarer. Most folks made do with the closest size they could find, and hand-made clothing that actually fit was almost a treasure these days.

“When I lived in Rivet City, I used to sell anything I could find out in the ruins. Some of that included clothes, but most of them were full of holes. There was an old lady, can’t remember her name, but she taught me to sew in exchange for a working radio. Maybe you think she ripped me off, but I’ve always considered skill to be far more valuable than caps. Besides, I could sell the fixed clothing for more, so I didn’t lose anything in the end,” concluded Danse, collecting his things.  _ Always so efficient, so calculating. _

“Well, I can say she taught you well,” complimented Ethan, looking at the seamless work Danse had pulled off. The gash from the Deathclaw was gone, and the fix was almost invisible.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” fumbled Danse, cheeks growing pink. Ethan could physically feel the love he felt for the Paladin radiating out of him. He was surprised his Pip-Boy didn’t give him a heart palpitation warning or something.

“I’m telling you, it’s really good! You can barely even see where it was ripped,” egged on Ethan, just to see what Danse would do.

“I- really, I don’t- uh, thank you,” concluded Danse, scratching his hair in embarrassment. 

_ I would die for this man. _

“Have you eaten yet?” asked Ethan, realizing how hungry he was. He hadn’t had dinner, on account of almost having lost his entrails the night before, so his stomach was rumbling like the Deathclaw that almost tore it out.

“I haven’t. I wanted to wait for you,” replied Danse, with a small smile. 

With that, they both headed to the kitchen table, and took their time sharing a box of the snack cakes Danse loved so much. As they ate, they could see through the window that the sun was gone and in its stead heavy clouds were gathering, and a few droplets were falling. It was going to rain.

  
  


When they were done, Danse climbed back into his power armor and they both left the house like they’d done the night before. Ethan was hoping he wouldn’t end up with another scar today when the radio caught a new signal:  _ Brotherhood of Steel Private Frequency. _

“It’s probably Elder Maxson,” said Danse. “We’ve been out longer than the mission required. He may be wondering where we are.” 

_ Great, _ thought Ethan. 

In all honesty, he’d actually forgotten about the Brotherhood in the last day or so. All his attention had been either focused on not dying, or on the man striding next to him along the ruined road. He hadn’t had much time for anything else.

Now though, he recalled that they were on a mission, and not in some sort of honeymoon, as much as he wanted that. They had to report back, and a twinge of panic shot up Ethan’s chest.

He listened to the transmission, which stated that they were both wanted back in the Prydwen as soon as possible, and they kept walking down the road towards the northeast. However, Ethan’s nerves hadn’t subsided in the least. If anything, he was getting more anxious as the distance between them and the airship closed. After a few minutes of silently waking, he dared:

“Danse?” 

“Yes?” 

“What are the Brotherhood’s regulations on, uh, close relationships?” 

Danse sighed.

“They aren’t encouraged. There’s no strict policies forbidding them, but they tend to be looked down upon. Especially between different levels of the command chain,” he added, looking guilty.

_ Fantastic,  _ Ethan thought angrily. The only man he was interested in was the one he shouldn’t be with.

But he was also worried about something else. The way Danse looked when Ethan had asked him made him think that maybe some of the old-world prejudice was still around. And if there was someone who didn’t like those that weren’t normal, it was the Brotherhood.

The clouds above them were getting darker, drops more frequent.

“And what do they think of people like, well, people like us?” asked Ethan a few moments later, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“What do you mean?” replied Danse, looking at him with confusion.

“People who, well, you know…”

“...who take too long on missions?” asked Danse, looking genuinely confused and missing the point completely.

“No! I mean, guys who are into guys, and stuff like that!” exclaimed Ethan, maybe a bit more harshly that he’d intended to.

Danse looked shocked, and Ethan regretted having said that immediately.

It began to rain.

“What do you mean? I don’t- I mean, I’ve never- Last night was just- It was a mistake. I mean, you were hurt and I didn’t know what to do.” 

Ethan’s world came crashing down on him. He felt his stomach drop.

“What are you saying, Danse? What do you mean, mistake?” 

Danse looked like he’d been cornered.

“We can’t do this! The Brotherhood doesn’t approve of these kinds of things! Even if they don’t say it, it’s true. It’s always been like that. Promotions don’t happen as quickly as they should, or assignments are worse, or missions get dangerous. We can’t do this, Ethan.” 

The cold water seeped through his clothing, drenching him.

“Danse, please, don’t say this. Last night, it felt right. I know it did.”

“I don’t know what happened last night, but just forget about it.”

“How can I forget it, Danse? How can I forget what you made- what you make me feel?” 

Danse looked exhausted, but he was getting angry.

“I suggest you do so, and quickly. I don’t want to see our spots in the Brotherhood tarnished by your lack of judgement. What happened last night was a mistake.”

Ethan couldn’t believe the words coming out of the Paladin’s mouth. The rain enveloped him in its cold embrace, drenching him, sucking the joy out of his body. 

“This isn’t you Danse. I know you felt something last night. I know it.” 

Danse looked pained, but resolute.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. We’ll pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives. Now let’s get going, Elder Maxson is waiting for us.”

Ethan snapped.

“Elder Maxson?! Is he the only thing you care about? Him and his precious little soldiers, is that all life is to you? What about me, Danse? Don’t I matter to you? Last night-”

“Shut up! Stop talking about last night” Danse looked enraged, not himself at all.

Ethan’s heart hurt, it was being crushed, broken into pieces. 

“I thought we had something, Danse. I can’t believe you’re going to throw it away just for your twisted idea of reputation.”

Danse looked angry, but his voice shook when he replied.

  
  


“The Brotherhood is my life. But you? You’re nobody.”

  
  


Danse turned and walked away.

  
  


Ethan stood where he was. Broken.

A sob clawed its way out of his chest.

  
He cried, under the rain. Cold.

  
  


He only wished Danse was there to keep him warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry please forgive me


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends!! i am back at it again with my funny words 
> 
> dont forget to comment and leave kudos if you enjoyed, it does help me to stay motivated haha
> 
> hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> \---

Ethan was empty.

He was currently lying on a filthy mattress in what used to be his bedroom, the ruined ceiling giving way for the moonlight to seep in.

It hurt.

Just when things had started to look up. When he’d finally felt like maybe this new world wasn’t so bad after all, Danse had broken him. 

He couldn’t have cried if he’d tried to; he’d done that all the way to Sanctuary, and then some more, and was now dry. Preston had tried to talk to him, knocked on his door a few times asking him what was wrong, but Ethan hadn’t let him in. There was only one person who could make it right.

He tossed and turned on his bed, like he had done once aboard the Prydwen, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight. The pain was too fresh.

His gut boiled with hatred when he remembered the airship, the Brotherhood. Just a bunch of racists, of xenophobes, every last one of them. They didn’t care for the people of the Commonwealth, they were just mindless soldiers raving on about honor and glory and stupid shit like that. How stupid he’d been for falling for a  _ Paladin, _ of all people. Stupid.

Then he thought of Haylen, cheery, joyful Haylen. How had a smart girl like her ended up with them? She should’ve known better. Ethan felt worse now. He would never be able to talk to her again. The closest thing to a friend he had, apart from Da- from the Paladin, and he would never see her again.

He could never go back to the Brotherhood. Never. Not after what he suffered. He would never help a group who opposed him because of who he was, people who placed  _ reputation _ before living, breathing humans. Never.

  
  


Then he thought about Shaun.

  
  


Poor, baby Shaun. A baby born to a false marriage, a child conceived to avoid the gossiping neighbours. He’d been cursed from the moment he emerged from his mother. A child forced into a loveless marriage, to parents who couldn’t look at him without remembering how fake it all was.

But Nora had died protecting him. Ethan had promised her he’d find him. Not for himself, but for her. She’d cared about him, in her way. And he had to do it. Even if they didn’t love each other like a husband and wife, they had some sort of bond. And it meant something. 

Curiously, he hadn’t thought that much about Shaun at all. Maybe his brain tried to shield him from what it all meant. Maybe he just wanted a clean slate. But in the end it would always be there, in the back of his head. 

And, as much as he hated to admit it, the Brotherhood was the best shot he had at somehow locating this Institute everyone kept talking about, which going by what everyone at Sanctuary had been saying may as well have had something to do with his son’s kidnapping.

  
  


So he had a choice. One, he could just dishonor the memory of his wife, keep doing his own thing in the Commonwealth and basically have minuscule chances of running into the people who took his son, or two: he could force himself to go to that den of power armor-wearing snakes and keep working for them until he had a lead, most likely running into the Paladin in the process.

  
  


Both options sounded terrible.

  
  


\---

  
  


Ethan decided to think things over, take a little vacation in Sanctuary.

He spent a few days helping around, like when he first got there. They erected some new walls around the perimeter, installed a few turrets, and expanded the electrical grid to allow for more lights and ceiling fans. What a luxury.

Every chance he got to sit down his mind would wander over to the Brotherhood. He had to go back, there was no denying that. But what would he do, what would he say?  _ Hey y’all, sorry I disappeared for like 2 weeks, anyways how’s it going?  _

What would he say to Danse? What would Danse say to him?

He still needed some time.

  
  


\---

  
  


Every step he took towards the police station made him want to turn back immediately.

His brain told him to go back, but he had to force himself to keep walking. One foot after the other. 

  
He’d thought about how to handle things on the way there, and had come with a half-assed plan. He’d talk to Haylen, test the waters to see his standing in the Brotherhood. If everything was somehow still OK, then he’d maybe ask about Danse. Maybe. His brain hadn’t figured out that one yet. Still hurt to think about him.

He felt anger slowly bubbling inside of him when he saw their banners by the precinct, but he had to keep it contained. It would be useless to lash out now and risk everything going to shit.  _ Like it hasn’t already. _

The knights at the door didn’t shoot at him, which meant that maybe everything was still alright and he wasn’t a deserter. That calmed him slightly.

When he walked inside, everything was as he remembered from those first days. He walked over to where Haylen’s terminal was.

He found her sitting, typing away a report on some complicated looking piece of tech next to her. Ethan cleared his throat. She started talking without looking at him.

“Sorry, I’m really busy right now. If it’s more tech just leave it by the- Ethan! You’re back!” she realized, and a surprised grin formed on her face while she jumped out of her chair and hugged him.

“I thought something had happened! The Paladin didn’t give any conclusive reports, at least not to us. How are you?” 

“It’s good to see you Haylen,” he said. It was true. Aside from Preston, she was the only friendly face he really had in the Commonwealth. And Preston tended to be a bit irritating.

“What happened? Why did you take so long?” she asked, gesturing for him to sit down next to her. He did.

“Oh, just some personal matters. Nothing too big,” he lied. It felt bad, lying to her, but he just couldn’t tell her the truth. He still respected Danse enough to not betray him like this.

Haylen seemed to raise an eyebrow for a fraction of a second, but continued anyway.

“Oh, it’s so good to have you back! It’s all been paperwork and cataloguing here. Nothing exciting ever happens. I haven’t even seen the Paladin since he arrived! He just went to the Prydwen and looks like he’s still there.” 

Ethan didn’t fail to notice that she was talking about Danse unprompted, and something in her look told him that she was doing it on purpose.

“Good to know. Thanks, Haylen,” he managed.

“Hey, it really is good to have you back. We missed you,” she replied with a genuine smile.

Ethan couldn’t help but smile back. She was quickly climbing the ranks of his favorite people chart, which was admittedly very short, but she was doing it anyway.

  
  


\---

Ethan had to mentally prepare himself to board the Prydwen. 

On the short flight there, his mind panicked at the thought of seeing the Paladin again. He had absolutely no clue as to what he would say. After all, how do you talk with a man who broke your heart but you still love because you want to believe he doesn’t mean it but you hate because he does mean it but you still can’t help loving?

_ God, I need to figure my shit out. _

He arrived on the Prydwen much earlier than he would’ve liked. He just hoped he didn’t run into Danse.

He made his way towards the bridge, figuring that Maxson would probably want to see him. He still hated his guts, but he had to keep playing their game until he got what he wanted.

He was, as usual, standing with his back to the door gazing into the Commonwealth through the massive windows. Ethan was about to announce himself, but Maxson cut him short.

“I’ve awaited your arrival, Knight. Paladin Danse reported in much, much earlier than you did. Care to explain why?” he inquired, with a calm tone that hid what Ethan figured was some sort of anger, annoyance.

“I had to attend to some personal matters, Elder.” He had to repress his disgust with the last word.

“Hmm, I see. Make sure it does  _ not  _ happen again. I will accept Paladin Danse’s apology on your behalf this time, but I will not be so forgiving on future occasions. Dismissed.” 

Ethan left for his quarters, his head light. Danse had apologized for him? Why would he do that? Ethan had failed him, had disrespected his oh so beloved Brotherhood. He’d been impossibly late, something he  _ knew _ Danse despised. Danse had made it clear that day under the rain that him and Ethan were over. So why was he still sticking up for him?

He decided he would lay in bed for the day. Now the Brotherhood knew he was back, so maybe that would get them to lay off of him for a while. He would get at it tomorrow, but for now he needed to rest. And think.

  
  


\---

  
  


Ethan woke up by nighttime, having dozed off at some point, and was now getting hungry. As much as he hated the prospect, he had to go to the mess hall. If he attempted a mission on an empty stomach, he would end up food for Deathclaws, and he was far too familiar with the experience to know that it was better to avoid it.

He got up and walked down the halls, carefully looking around his peripheral vision so as to spot the Paladin before he could get cornered and say something stupid. He made it intact, Paladin nowhere to be seen, and sat down at an empty table, having served himself a tray of what looked like brahmin steak with mashed tatos.  _ Could be worse, _ he thought as he chewed down the rubbery meat.

“Mind if I sit here?” Haylen surprised him, sitting down anyways with a tray of her own.

“Haylen! Why are- what are you doing up here?” asked Ethan, surprised at seeing her some place other than the police station.

“Had to have a word with Proctor Quinlan. He keeps sending the recruits after tech, and by the time it gets to me it looks like a Super Mutant took it for a ride,” she replied.

They ate their dinner, exchanging some small talk, and the mess hall got consistently emptier, until they were almost the last ones left, apart from a couple other soldiers.

“So, anyway. I wanted to talk to you,” said Haylen, stealthily looking around to check that no one was eavesdropping.

  
“What about?” asked Ethan, pretending that he had no clue what she was talking about but having all the clue in reality.

“About, well, about Danse.”

_ Spot on,  _ thought Ethan.

“I can see how you look at him Ethan, I’m not dumb. Don’t panic, it’s not obvious, I just have a knack for these sorts of things,” she assured him.

Ethan didn’t bother to deny it. He could trust Haylen.

“I know you like him. And if I’m not mistaken, I think he may like you too,” she confided, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“I doubt that. He made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me,” Ethan said, his anger threatening to come out through his tone.

“Ethan, I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t believe it. I’m not one to gossip around. Especially not about the people I care about.”

Ethan sighed.

“Go on, then.”

“When he returned from your mission together, Danse looked, well, he looked like shit. And I don’t mean like battle scarred, or anything like that. He just looked, defeated. Like he was hurt or something.”

The mess hall was quiet, a small rumble of conversation going on in the background.

“So I asked him about it, that night. I thought he would just wave me away, or dismiss it. But he confided in me. Now, I don’t know if Danse is getting soft, or he’s just been travelling with you too much or what, but he never talks about his feelings. So I was frankly surprised to be having that conversation.” 

Ethan was getting anxious now.

“We talked, quite a bit. And well, I’m not gonna tell you everything he said, I don’t think he would appreciate that. But he made it clear that, whatever happened that day under the rain, he regretted it. He said he had been stupid, and he felt really bad about it. And it was for real. I don’t know what you think he felt towards you after that, but I know for a fact that he still cares.”

Ethan needed a moment.

Those days after Danse had said those awful things, he’d been simmering in a pot of hatred and anger towards him, towards the Brotherhood, towards everything.

But now, it turned out Danse was sorry?

Ethan wasn’t quite sure how to feel. Part of him was overjoyed, knowing that Danse really did like him and was just confused. 

But another part was still angry. The Paladin had hurt him. He’d called him a nobody, he’d been willing to put his image before their relationship, whatever that was. He’d hurt him, made him suffer.

“I understand why you’d be angry. Honestly, I told him myself, he was a massive idiot. But he’s a good guy. He’s just never had to deal with this sort of thing. He may know his way in the battlefield, but all this feelings stuff confuses him. But he cares about you, Ethan. He really does. And I think you’re the right guy to help him figure this out.”

Ethan sat there, contemplating, and Haylen stood up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I hope I made things clearer for you. Good luck,” and she left.

  
  


Ethan didn’t quite know what to do. But whatever he chose in the end, he had to talk to Danse.

  
  


\---

  
  


He was laying on his bed in his quarters, considering a course of action. Haylen had really made him rethink things. He just hoped Danse had rethought his priorities as well.

In the end, he just decided he’d walk up to the Paladin’s quarters and ask to talk. He just hoped he could improvise a good conversation after that.

Bracing himself, he walked out of his dorm towards Danse’s.

  
  


\---

  
  


It was a short walk, considering everything in the Prydwen was close. He stood in front of the door for a few minutes, trying to gather the courage to knock, and eventually, he knocked.

  
  


Danse opened the door, and Ethan’s heart once again leaped at the sight.

  
  


He must’ve been getting ready for bed, because he was only wearing his tank top and the lower half of his Brotherhood jumpsuit.

“Danse,” said Ethan, trying to contain his feelings.

“Ethan, I- come in,” he offered, stepping aside.

His quarters were almost identical to Ethan’s, though a bit larger, and more decorated. There were pre-war military recruitment posters on the wall by the bed, a shelf with some military merch on it, a war bond framed on the wall by the desk. The light was warm, soft. Like the oil lamp they’d sat under back in that house where it all began.

Danse sat on his bed, and gestured for Ethan to take his desk chair. He did.

“Listen, Danse. I wanna talk. About what happened. About us.”

Danse looked down in shame. Not embarrassment. Shame.

“I was an idiot. I should’ve never spoken to you like that. You have every right to be angry with me,” said the Paladin, self-hatred seeping through his words.

“I was. I was extremely mad at you. I spent weeks being mad at you. You were an asshole, Danse.” 

“There’s no excuse for what I said. For how I treated you. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” continued Danse, with sorrow.

“I don’t know if I really should. What will happen, Danse? How will things turn out if I did? I thought I could trust you. I cared about you, but you turned me away. How can I know you won’t do it again at the first sign things are getting scary?”

  
  


Danse didn’t reply. Instead, he took Ethan’s head and kissed him.

  
  


Like that one kiss they’d shared before, it was tender, passionate, loving. Danse’s stubble scratched Ethan’s face, their hands reuniting once more, saying everything and nothing at the same time.

It went on and on, until finally they broke apart. Danse looked deep into Ethan’s eyes, resolute.

“I will never hurt you again, Ethan. I promise.”

  
  


Ethan didn’t quite know how to feel.

“But, what about the Brotherhood? Didn’t you-”

“The Brotherhood will always be there. But you, well, you’re one of a kind,” replied Danse, slightly awkwardly.

Ethan didn’t quite forget everything Danse had said, but he was going to try.

“If you say I can trust you, then I will. But I can’t go through what you made me go through again. I just can’t.”

“I know. From the moment I turned my back and walked the first step away from you, I felt horrible. I wanted to go back and comfort you, to be there for you like you were for me. But I was stupid. I’ll never do that again.”

Ethan placed a soft, short kiss on Danse’s lips.

“Then we’ll do it.” 

Ethan stood up to leave for his quarters, but Danse took his hand.

“Can you- would you stay? For the night?” 

Ethan panicked slightly.

“Danse, I don’t- Don’t you think it’s too early for that?” 

Danse looked confused.

“What do you- Oh! I didn’t mean that! I just- I don’t want to see you go. Not tonight. Could you stay?” 

Ethan felt, once again, those proverbial butterflies fluttering about inside him.

“Of course.” 

  
  


So they undressed, stopping at the regulatory Brotherhood sweatpants and tank tops, and crawled into the bed together.

Ethan felt a bit awkward, but when Danse reached over his chest and pressed against him, his arm around his torso holding him close, his warm breathing on the back of his neck, he knew he was right where he had to be.

  
  


He smiled and dozed off, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.


End file.
